The Little Manx Nation - 1891

supplied with a trout basket which, slung across his shoulder, gave him quite the old feeling of preparation for a day's sport, instead of merely an early

aid. "It don't take long to run up McInt

later on. Besides, I've just bribed the cook to gi

mpled, rusty-looking fly-ho

Mebbe you can get a few while you're resting. I'd lend you a rod if we had one

ination not to be resisted. The years seemed to roll backward, and Frank felt the old eager longing

with dew. Below, where the path lay, it was still dim and silent, but the earliest touc

basket at his side, the following of this fascinating trail brought him nearer to boyhood with every forward step. He would go directly to the top of the mountain, he thought, find the curious flower or fungus which Robin had seen, and on his return trip would stop at the brooks and perhaps bring home

ciously she and Robin were learning to care for each other, he thought most unlikely. He remembered Constance as she had seemed during the days of their meeting at Lenox, when she had learned to know, and he believed to care for him. It had never been like that. It would not be like that, now, with another. There would be no other. He would be more as she would have him-more like Robin Farnham. Why, he was beginning this very moment. Those years of idleness had dropped away. He had regarded himself as beyond the time of beginning! What nonsense! At twenty-four-full of health and the joy of living-swinging up a mountain trail to win a

s return. He looked about until he found a long, slim shoot of some tough wood, and this he cut for a rod. Then he put on a bit of the line-a longer piece would not do in this little stream-and at the end he strung a short leader and two flies. It was queer, but he found his fingers trembling just a little with eagerness as he adjusted those flies; and when he held the rig at arm's length and gave it a little twitch in the old way it was not so bad, after all, he thought. As he stealthily gained the exact position where he could drop the lure on the eddy below the fall and poised the slender rod for the cast, the only earthly thing that seemed importa

brook," he said aloud. "I wonde

er cast, but

"I came lumbering down like a duff

ish, that delightful tug, and the gayly speckled capture that came glancing to his feet. Why not do his fishing now, in these morning hours when the time was right? Later, the sport might be poor, or none at all. At this rate he could soon fill his creel and then make his way up the mountain. He halted a moment to line the basket with damp moss and water grasses to keep his catch fresh. Then he put aside every other purpose for the business of the moment, cree

eak ahead and presently the brook pitched over a higher fall than any he had passed, into a larger stream-almost a river. A great regret came upon the young man as he viewed this fine water

wn the mountain side, and Frank decided that he could follow it for a distance, and then, with th

gave a leap, for he knew now that in this water-though they would be fewer in number-there were trout which were well worth while. He cast again over the dark, foamy pool, and this time the flash was followed by such a tug as at first made him fear that his primitive tackle might not hold. Oh, then he longed for a reel and a net. This was a fish that could not be lightly lifted out, but must be worked to a landing place and dragged ashore. Holding the line taut, he looked for

d hesitated to strike. He got another at length, somewhat smaller than the first, and lost still another which he thought was larger than e

ind that it was nearly eleven o'clock, by which time he had expected to have reached the top of McIntyre and to have been we

d to keep holding that black-and-gold monster at the other end of the tackle-to keep him from getting back under that log-from twisting the line around a limb-in a word, to prevent him from regaining freedom. It would be lunacy to drag this fish ashore by force. The line or the fly would certainly give way, even if the rod would stand. Indeed, when he tried to work his capture a little nearer, it held so like a rock that he believed for a moment the line was already fast. But then came a sudden rush to the right and another stand, and to the left-with a plunge for depth-and with each of these rushes Frank's heart stood still, for he felt that against the power of this monster

nduring, until lo, there on the pebbles, gasping and striking with his splendid tail, lay the conquered king of fish. It required but an instant for the captor to pounce upon him and to secure him with a piece of line through his gills, and this he replaced with a double willow branch which he could tie together and to the basket, for this fish was altogether too large to go inside. Exhausted and weak from the struggle, Frank sat down to contemplate his capture and to regain strength before starting up the mountain. Five pounds, certainly, this fish weighed, he though

ntain and away, before the storm. He could not see the peak, for here the trees were tall and thick, but he knew his direction by the compass and by the slope

op, and, once there, if he could find what he sought. Only the big fish, swinging at his side and dragging in the leaves as he crept through underbrush, gave him comfort in what was rapidly becoming an unpleasant and difficult undertaking. Presently he was reduced to climbing hand over hand, clinging to bushes and bracing his feet as best he might. All at once, he was face to face with a cliff which rose sheer for sixty feet or more and which i

ring over the cliff he was overjoyed to see the lost fish ha

e him objects only a few feet distant were lost in a white mist, while here and there a drop as of rain struck in the leaves. It would not do to waste time. A storm might be gathering, and a tempest, or even a chill rain on the top of McIntyre was something to be avoided. He rose, and climbi